


untitled

by BoopPhysics



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-31 14:44:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6474511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoopPhysics/pseuds/BoopPhysics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a mission gone horribly wrong, Cipher Agent Nine finds herself stripped of title and rank, and reassigned to serve under a member of the Dark Council, Darth Nox.</p>
            </blockquote>





	untitled

The air was cold.  The lights were bright.  And that damnable probe was still hovering in front of her eyes.  For a second Cipher Agent Nine thought that she was back on Ord Mantell.  She instinctively tried to prop herself up on her arms, but found that they were tightly restrained.  She was about to start attempting to twist herself out of her restraints when the hovering medical probe beeped and whirred affirmatively and slowly floated away.  The bright green bands that had rooted her to the medical panel dimmed and ebbed away.  Csapla’yay’enge cautiously pushed herself off of the cold durasteel and stood up warily.  Instantly the small door to the medical room opened and the Minister of Imperial Intelligence entered.  The medical droid on duty squawked to attention, but was silenced by a small glare.

The Minister was an aged Imperial, as signified by his balding head and his greying hairs, but to see the man walk into the room and then to hear his stern and collected voice one could swear he was forty years younger.  

“Agent Ayaye.” He began, “How do you feel?”

Ayaye looked down at her hands, “Well, my hands are still blue and I don’t appear to be bleeding anymore, sir.”  She responded, “I guess I will have to thank Intelligence for that.”

“And a whole lot more, yes.”  The Minister said, “Come with me to my office, agent, we need to talk.”  

He turned and walked briskly out, leaving Ayaye to follow slowly behind.  She blindly stumbled after the Minister down several hallways within Intelligence headquarters and soon found herself standing in front of a desk.  The Minister had taken his seat opposite and laced his fingers together, leaning forward into his hands.  If she wasn’t still drugged up, Ayaye might’ve made a joke about how he looked like your average Sith lord, but all she could do right now was stand groggily and hope that she would be dismissed soon.  

“Agent,” the Minister began, “I understand that your undercover operation was compromised shortly after you were inserted.”  

Ayaye barely managed to suppress the groan that threatened to make its way out of her throat, she had hoped to leave debriefing for at least a few more days, instead she choked it back in time and answered with, 

“Yes sir, that is what happened, sir.”  

“Would you care to elaborate on that, Agent?”  the Minister asked.

To be completely honest, Ayaye had no idea what had happened.  She had landed on Nar Shadda in a Republic transport after her extraction from Taris and was immediately knocked unconscious, then awoke to some Jedi waving their hands at her.  When she wouldn't talk, SIS stepped in. 

"I'm...not entirely sure of the happenstances of my capture," Ayaye began, "But it seems to me that the SIS did not entirely believe my defection was genuine."

The Minister sighed and put his head into his hands.  Ayaye did not blame his exasperation, her infiltration mission had taken months of meticulous planning along with the creation of an entirely new identity and Intelligence field agent, the fact that it had failed before it even began meant a lot of wasted resources.

"You put me in a difficult situation, agent, the Dark Council had expected results, among them Darth Zhorrid, who will no doubt begin another rampage across my office." The Minister said, "Formal procedures would ask for either severe demotion or dishonorable discharge from Intelligence for the failure of such a high cost mission."

"But sir-," Ayaye began

"I am not finished, agent," the Minister silenced her with a cold stare.  He began tapping at the computer in front of him, "I understand that your mission record up until this point has been pristine, but that simply means your failure is even more damaging."

Ayaye bit her lip, 

_ This is it  _ she thought  _ in two days I'll be back on Csilla begging Saganu for a job scrubbing the palace _ .   Ayaye began unconsciously wringing her wrists as the Minister decided on his final judgement.  The Minister said nothing for several minutes, instead staring at the dull glare of his terminal.  He looked contemplative and pensive, but finally he pushed a button on his intercom..

"Watcher Three, come into my office, please, and bring our visiting Sith with you."

The Minister then raised his head to look at Ayaye.  He handed her a datapad from his desk and began to explain,

"About a week ago, a member of the Dark Council, Darth Nox, requested an Intelligence officer be put under her command, and that I asked no questions.  I did not ask questions, but I didn't have an officer to give her then.”  The Minister appraised her with a look before continuing,  “Now I do.  I do not wish to see you discharged, agent, nor can I allow you to remain an active Cipher after the events that have transpired.  Therefore I am putting you on an unofficial leave of duty, and you are to report to Darth Nox, effective immediately."

 

Ayaye stared at the datapad.  Staring back at her was the head of a Twi’lek.  The red-skinned Sith had a shapely face, with large eyes and tall cheekbones, which accented her full lips.  Were it not for the dull red in her eyes, Ayaye might have mistaken her for a clothing model instead of a Sith, or a Dark Council member at that.  But the whirring of the door distracted her from the dossier, and she looked up as Watcher Three walked in nervously with a male Kaleesh treading behind.  Most Kaleesh managed to dominate a room by their seer size and demeanor, but this particular one was not only larger than most, but also exuded an aura of malevolence and uneasiness.  Ayaye felt the hairs on the back of her neck begin to stand, and she began unconsciously reaching for a missing holstered pistol at her thigh.  

Nothing was said for several seconds, during which Ayaye felt considerably more nervous about the Sith in the room.  Finally, the Minister excused Watcher Three, and gestured the Kaleesh to sit.  

“Welcome, Lord Xalek.”  The Minister gestured towards Ayaye, “I have found a suitable agent that your master requested, this is Cipher Agent Nine.”

“Good day, milord.”  Ayaye muttered, bowing her head low.  

Xalek said nothing, instead his bright yellow eyes stared deep into Ayaye’s, and she felt herself examining the Sith’s blood red robes instead of meeting his gaze.  After a full minute of uncomfortable silence, the Kaleesh Sith moved away.  He walked over to the Minister,

“She will do.”  He said simply, and walked out of the office.

The Minister looked at Ayaye,

“It appears that you have a new assignment, Agent, best you get to it.  Report to the Citadel.”  He said.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, in the outskirts of wild space, a singular point in space contorted, bending into itself, and a small spaceship jumped out from hyperspace, its engines silent in the vacuum of space.  Captain Jolstin Farran stood up from his chair, satisfied with the jump, and stretched his arms in the air.  Beside him, a large Wookie growled his approval and began piloting the freighter towards the bustling spaceport.  

“Hey, thanks, Bowdarr.”  Jolstin said, moving outwards from the cockpit.  He shuffled slowly to the cargo hold and peeked inside, still giddy from the prospects of its contents.  Sixteen crates lined the walls of the cargo hold, each brimming with Adegan crystals mined on Ilum.  Jolstin rubbed his hands together as he began to think, yet again, about exactly how many credits his client was about to pay him.  Suddenly, a pair of hands wrapped around his waist, and a mop of disheveled brown hair pulled itself into his back.  Jolistin reached behind him and patted Risha Drayen on her head,

“Morning, sleepyhead.”  He said in a sing-song voice, “Ready to make a fortune to rival your dad’s?”  Hearing only a soft mumble, Jolstin turned around to face Risha, cupping her chin, “Something wrong babe?”  He asked.

“I said my dad’s fortune is a hundred times this dingy shipment.”  Risha grumbled, sleep still evident in her eyes, “It’s only worth about sixteen million credits anyways.”  Jolstin spun her around to face the cargo,

“Yes, but if our good friend is willing to buy this, he’d also be willing to set up an indefinite supply.”  He said proudly, “Imagine it, Rish, imagine fifty cargoes like this per run, a whole cadre of ships delivering, and the profit funnels to  _ me _ .”

“You mean to us. You’ve been admiring this cargo the whole trip more than you’ve ever admired me in your life, Farran.”   Risha muttered, letting go of her hold on Jolstin.  She turned and walked away from the cargo bay, heading to the fresher on board the ship.  Jolstin ignored her and continued to stare at the cargo.  Eventually, he heard docking clamps lock tightly around his ship, meaning that it was finally time to make his mark on smuggling history.  Risha had finished her shower in record time, and was lounging on a stool wearing her street clothes, absently flicking through a magazine.  Bowdarr was busy eating from a large bag of candy he kept in one of the pockets on his Wookiee-length vest.  Jolstin smiled as he put on his own brown jacket and holstered Flashy.  While he usually fiddled with the gun when he was anxious, today the cool metal of the pistol did little to calm his considerable nerves,

“Aaaaallllllrighty, gang, are we ready?!”  He yelled.  Bowdarr gave an approving roar while Risha gave him a wry smile and a sarcastic “Yes, captain”.  

The airlock to the XS freighter groaned open, and Jolstin practically hopped out, only to find a blue lightsaber pointed at his chest.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Darth Mortis was becoming increasingly bored with the proceedings of the Dark Council.  In front of him, a frantic young Lord had been raving for the past ten minutes, stomping around the chamber and unleashing small bouts of Force to emphasize his points,

“My Lords, I  _ beg _ of you,” Lord Arkus growled, a slight tremor of Force rippling from his hands, “You must  _ recognize _ the  _ evil _ that is taking place in the Academy right  _ now _ , there has been unprecedented amounts of  _ murder _ disgracing these ancient halls!  And nothing but compliance from the Overseers, they are even  _ facilitating _ these killing games!”

Sighing, Mortis reached out with his mind, letting his consciousness pool and directed himself at the man sitting next to him, Darth Ravage.

_ “I will give you three Star Destroyers if you end this insufferable upstart right here and now.”   _ He muttered darkly.  Ravage didn’t respond, but from his whitening knuckles around his arm-rests, Mortis knew that he was very tempted to do so.  

The Sith known as Lord Arkus prancing in front of the Dark Council had been granted an audience with them weeks prior, he had repeatedly sent messages and demands over the course of two years, with no hint of relenting until he had been granted his audience.  Mortis remembered when Marr decided to give him the chance to speak.  He raised his head to look across the dimly lit room at Marr, wondering his opinion on the pathetic display.  As always, the masked Sith gave no sign of emotion or expression, he sat as still and silent as the giant statues of the Emperor around them, giving no indication of neither favor nor disdain at the display in front of him, despite it being his decision on allowing Arkus’ audience.  Several of the Dark Council members had been openly hostile to Marr’s decision on the matter, 

“You’re going to make this hall stink more than it usually does, Marr.”  Darth Hadra had spat.  In protest, she and many of the Dark Council members had deigned not to attend this specific meeting, leaving only five of the twelve seats occupied today.

_ “Well, if you aren’t going to do it, I will.” _  Mortis said to Ravage.  He was about to ignite his lightsaber and run it through Arkus, but as his hand was reaching down, the doors to the chamber slid open.  

The Darths turned their heads as Arkus continued to ramble, unaware of the intrusion.  A Twi’lek was slowly walking in, Mortis recognized the click of heels upon the stone and the bouncing red lekku.

_ “On second thought, I might let this play out.” _  He said to Ravage with an amused voice.

Darth Nox strode into the Council chambers, her heels began to click louder and louder with every step she took, eventually it was so loud it began to drown out Arkus, who whirled around to face her, irate that his dramatic speech was interrupted.  

“Who in the everloving  _ fuck- _ ” The anger died on his lips.  Arkus’ face instantly paled, and soon Mortis smelled his fear permeating the hall.  Arkus gave a low bow, “My-My Lord.”  He managed to stammer out, “F-forgive my outburst, I-I was-”

“Giving a pathetic, rambling speech about happenings far above your station, I presume?”  Darth Nox said, a smirk on her face.  She sidled alongside Arkus, pressing herself into him and pressing a finger against his lips, “Maybe a little bit of angry gesturing about how your  _ pathetic _ little cousin died in the tombs because she couldn’t handle the trials?”  

“My Lord, I have definitive proof that my cousin was murd-” Arkus began. 

“Oh, hush.”  Nox said, covering his mouth with her hand, “Your cousin was weak, that was all, Arkus.  Just like the rest of your blood.  A small scrabbling pack of weak rodents, trying to crawl where they don’t belong.”

Nox felt Arkus begin to tremble, his rage rapidly replacing his fear.  She felt his muscles tense and sensed the power begin to swell within him.

“Oooooh, is widdle Arkus getting angry?”  She cooed, “Is he angry that his son isn’t getting preferential treatment at the academy?  Or the fact that you yourself barely managed to scrape by during your time there?”  She pulled up alongside him again and whispered into his ear, “Or are you angry because you still don’t realize how completely insignificant and powerless you are here?”

Mortis felt the ground begin to tremble, Force was swelling up within Arkus, making his eyes glow a dim purple.  Arkus forced the lightning through his body, focusing it on his fingertips.  Mortis inched forward in his seat, readying himself for what was to come.

“Nox.”  A deep and masked voice silenced the room.  Mortis still felt Arkus’ presence, but it had suddenly become completely dwarfed by a much bigger one that now almost suffocated the room.  Nox looked up at Darth Marr,

“Yes, Marr, dear?”  She said with a bright smile.

“I thought you told us you were not attending this Council meeting.  Now are you here for something important, or do you actually intend to listen to Lord Arkus, for if you do so, I suggest you go to your seat.”  Marr’s voice was grating, a deep and contorted voice that spoke of decades of exposure to the dark side of the Force; coupled with his mask, it was a commanding and terrifying voice that few could listen to without fear.  Mortis felt Arkus’ presence begin to die down.  

Nox, on the other hand, was completely unfazed.  She walked towards the front of the room, letting her purple and gold robes flutter in the cold air.  She rested her hand on the large statue that dominated the front of the room, fondly rubbing the pedestal under it,

“Yeah, I guess I do have some news.”  She began, turning to face her other Councillors, “I’m going to be leaving the Citadel for a few weeks, so I hope you guys can manage to keep the Citadel from burning, okay?  Because it would really suck if I didn’t have a throne to come back to.”

Mortis sighed, he wished that Nox would act as her position demanded, but she seems completely insistent on this mirage of childishness and innocence, a mirage that had already been shattered too many times in this very hall.  Marr did not move, instead he gestured to the door,

“If that is all then, Nox, may you please allow Lord Arkus to finish his speech.”  He stated.  Nox put a hand to her chin, contemplating Marr’s demand, 

“Darth Marr, I am curious.”  She said, “Why  _ did _ you grant this... _ insect _ a chance to speak in front of us?” 

Mortis felt Arkus’ presence swell up again, this time the lightning visibly crackled on his hands.  Nox pretended not to notice, instead looking pointedly at Marr, waiting for an answer.  Marr’s silence stretched on for many minutes, his red and spiked armor seemed to dull even more in the low light of the chamber.  The room grew quieter, if it was even possible, as he contemplated his answer.  Finally he stood up,

“I had thought that Lord Arkus would give us a meaningful report of the occurrences at Korriban.”  He said.  Marr turned to face Arkus, “Do you have anything else to report other than observations of the Korriban academy?  Might I remind you, Arkus, while there are rules against outright bloodshed and murder, they are still an everyday occurrence at the academy, and even the Overseers are encouraged to not interfere with these matters.”

Arkus blustered for a bit, fumbling with his words, “M-Milord, I was simply trying to urge the Dark Council to take a more active role in protecting the future of our order.”

Darth Marr let out a raspy, robotic sigh, “Evidently, I was mistaken in your claims.  You have let your own interests guide you instead of the facts.”  

Nox giggled, “Stop, you’re sounding like a Jedi now.”

Marr ignored her, “Lord Arkus.”  His voice boomed, “You are dismissed.”

Arkus spluttered, indignation streaked across his face, “But my lords!”  He began.  

Nox wrapped an arm around his shoulders, “Looks like it’s time to say bye-bye to the adults, babby Arkus.”  She said in a sing-song voice.

Mortis felt rather than saw Arkus’ reaction.  Lightning arced upwards from his hands, racing around the chamber and slammed into Darth Nox.  Mortis easily blocked any errant discharges that had approached him with his hands.  Over the crackle of the lightning he heard Arkus’ vitriolic screams,

“You alien _ bitch _ !  You fucking  _ whore _ !  I’ll  _ kill  _ you, I’ll  _ kill  _ you, I’ll-”.  Suddenly his voice stopped, cut off by something or someone.  As the Force swelling around the room settled, Mortis saw Arkus, lightsaber drawn and swinging wildly at a smiling Nox.  Behind him, a young female Togruta held him by the hem of his cloak, yellow saber drawn.  Arkus soon stopped his flailing when he noticed his lack of oxygen.  Turning around, he attempted to swing his saber at the young Sith holding him from behind, she parried his saber away effortlessly and flicked her wrist, disarming Arkus.  Arkus reached out with his hand, intent on calling his weapon back with the Force, but was stopped by the Togruta who took the lightsaber first.  Not one to give up, he summoned more lightning in his hands and threw it at Darth Nox.  It slammed into her body with full force, yet she walked through the Force attack as though it weren’t there.  With a single push, Nox flattened Arkus to the ground.  She kneeled down next to him,

“Hmm, you seem to have a lot more power than you let on, Lord Arkus, that lightning almost tickled.”  She mused.  She wrapped her hands around Arkus’ head and wrenched it upwards, “Perhaps you’ve been looking at some secrets the Imperial Reclamation Service have dug up recently then?”

Arkus swung at her with a fist.  Nox casually caught his hand and wrenched his wrist to the side.  With a loud crack and a scream, Arkus fell back onto the ground, nursing his injured hand,

“Now wouldn’t that be a curious tidbit, because I don’t recalling ever telling the Imperial Reclamation Service to  _ reveal _ our recent findings just yet.  And as their boss, I think I was quite right in doing so.”  Reaching into one of Arkus’ pockets, Nox pulled out a small red holocron, “Ahh, yes, a holocron of Marka Ragnos, a pretty personal one at that, surely to contain a lot of secrets about the dark side.”

Nox pocketed the holocron and kicked at Arkus’ prone form, “Where did you get it, worm?”  She hissed, all traces of childishness vanished from her voice.  Arkus said nothing, instead he bit his mouth began channeling more Force through his body.  Lightning crackled across his body once again, but before he could unleash it, Nox slammed a palm into his chest, flinging him across the room.  Then, she lifted his unconscious body and hurled it through the open chamber door.  Arkus’ body hit the wall outside with a wet thud, leaving a trail of blood as he slid down.  Mortis looked away from the crumpled body and found himself facing Darth Nox.

Anger had replaced Nox’s previous innocent visage.  Unbridled rage was now pounding through her body, coursing through her veins, and Nox needed to get rid of some of it right  _ now _ .  Grabbing Arkus’ lightsaber from her apprentices’ hand, Nox gripped the weapon tightly with two hands.  A stream of lightning poured into the hilt, shattering the metal and crystal.  She flung the ashes to the ground and stomped out, her Togruta apprentice following silently behind.

As the doors to the Dark Council chamber slammed closed, Mortis let out a breath he had not realized he had been holding.  Slowly, Mortis stood up and gestured to Darth Vowran, a fellow Councilor.  

“Now  _ that _ was a Dark Council meeting.”  He said.

Vowran said nothing, instead he ran his hand through the tendrils on his chin and simply sighed,

“Will someone please call a protocol droid and clean up this  _ dreadful _ mess,”  he said.


End file.
